


Through the Door of Night

by redheadandslytherin



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dagor Dagorath, M/M, Post-War of the Ring, Reunions, War of the Ring, love as motivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadandslytherin/pseuds/redheadandslytherin
Summary: As the War of the Ring draws to a close, Sauron watches.He was always the one with the backup plans.





	

Sauron watched from the top of his tower as the allied forces of Middle Earth gathered at the great gates of Mordor. He felt his Ring, so close, yet still unreachable. He sent out his forces to battle the Men, knowing what will come.

He never did create the Ring to rule Middle Earth. Sure, he wanted to conquer it, but it was more a need than a want, a means to an end. He needed Middle Earth to move on to Valinor, to force the other Maiar and Valar to their knees, to open the Door, to get Melkor out. Ah yes, all his plans on destroying the Elves and Men – he really did not care much for the Dwarves, they were merely a mild annoyance and he spared no thought for the _Hobbits_ , ignorant little pests they were – all served one purpose: to provide a stepping stone to the Door.

Ever since the Valar pushed Morgoth through the Door, he was planning to set him free, to help him regain his power. And of course, on a more personal note – he wanted his beloved Vala back. Every single moment since that fated day he longed for the cool touch of pale fingers against his skin, for the bruising kisses, the secretly shared quiet laughs, the heated love-making after victorious battles. And now… now it was time.

How it would happen, he did not know. Maybe, maybe he’ll be victorious and with his Ring, turn against Aman next. There were troops searching for that damned creature that had the Ring, after all. Or maybe he’ll fail, and the Ring will be destroyed. He scoffed at the thought. As if that would matter now.

He did have a failsafe, after all.

His desire to be with Melkor again fuelled every move; he was not naïve enough to not take losing into consideration. Oh, he did, and he did plan accordingly. The magic he’d woven into the gold of the Ring did not only hold his power, it also held a promise. A promise that should it be destroyed, its creator would not simply diminish to nothing or worse, bought to face the Valar in the halls of Mandos. He would be thrown to the Void.

It took him years to find a way to ensure that, to find a spell that could both serve its purpose and be forged into gold. He had to use all of his knowledge to create something strong enough to hold such magic but after many failed attempts, he finally succeeded. The promise of the spell thrummed ever so gently in the back of his mind as he watched the two armies collide. He turned towards the mountain than, looking for the Ringbearer. There was, however no movement to be seen. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. He felt the Ring calling out to him; he felt turmoil, a brief flash of panic and then… then pain. Blinding, searing hot pain as his corporeal body was torn to pieces, destroying the tower he was standing on in the process. If he still could, he would’ve laughed with joy. This was the destruction of the Ring; this was his one wish coming true. With one last conscious thought he took one last look at the battlefield, distantly hearing the death screams of the Nazghuls. And then – nothing.

 

When he finally regained something akin to consciousness, it was too dark to see and he screamed out in pain for his soul was still raw from being torn from his body and showed through the Door. But he felt strong arms holding him, a steel-strong presence engulfing him in blessed coolness, soothing his pains. He tried to speak but realised he couldn’t. Fear rose in his mind and he trashed helplessly against the arms holding him, for a moment thinking that he was somehow taken prisoner by the Valar. There were sounds, whispers, but in his panic he could not understand them.

But as he slowly stared coming back to himself as the pain subsided, he finally recognized the voice and relaxed. _Melkor_ , he thought and he felt a wave of warmth wash over him. The Vala whispered to him about love and gratitude, about loneliness and plans he made in the ages past. _Now, my beloved lieutenant_ , the voice purred, _we shall break this Door, for there is no force strong enough to stand up against the both of us and now, now we shall be victorious._ Sauron wound his essence closer to the Vala, their souls wrapping around each other, relishing the long-craved contact as they laughed and planned, forgetting any pain and suffering they had to endure while separated.

 

The Valar eyed the Door warily and prepared for the Last Battle.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr, I'll be happy to talk Dark Lords In Love with you!


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